The Best Incentive
by ThoughtsInTheWind
Summary: Picks up after Jane cracks the CD with the Lorelei recording in 5x22. He and Lisbon come to a new understanding in the attic. Will their chosen incentive carry them through until Red John's death? Or will RJ win yet again? And while they're at it, will Lisbon and Jane finally admit the truths they've been hiding for so long?
1. The Best Incentive

**A/N** This takes place after the end of Season 5, Episode 22. Right after Jane cracks up the CD with the recording from Lorelei. First time writing a Mentalist fic, though I've recently gotten into all five seasons. Oh, the wonders of Amazon and expedited shipping.

Standard disclaimers apply - I don't own this, Bruno Heller does. The disclaimer applies to this chapter and all future chapters of the work. I lean towards keeping this a one-shot, unless there's some interest in more chapters.

* * *

Jane sat down on the makeshift attic bed, patting the space beside him. The hopelessness swam clear in his eyes, and Lisbon did as he asked. All traces of her authority were gone. This wasn't between an agent and her consultant anymore. This wasn't even between Lisbon and Jane. Here in the attic, those work personas fell away. They were replaced by the real selves of their owners underneath.

This moment was between Patrick and Teresa. It was as simple as that.

As the quiet swallowed them up, Jane allowed himself a moment to remember.

Once before, he'd taken her hand without any pretense behind the action. They were in the desert then, after the magnificent failure that was their attempt to catch Red John. In a flash, Jane's six-month deception was rendered useless, the careful tapestry he wove, all unraveled by a stupid misunderstanding.

And now, as then, he took Lisbon's hand in his. This time, there was no slide down her arm, but the gesture didn't lose significance.

As their fingers locked, Teresa walked down her own memory lane.

Back in that sweltering desert, she had desperately wanted to pull him into her arms. She didn't, for fear of admitting her feelings, even if only to herself. But now she did what she never had the courage to do.

She pulled him close, one tender and thin hand on his cheek. Yes, damn anyone who thought she was doing wrong. Jane was hurting, that was reason enough, and the world could go to hell as far as Lisbon was concerned.

"We'll get him," she said. "I promise you we will."

"Will we?" he asked. "He's always been a step ahead. Everything we've done to catch him has failed."

His helplessness floored her.

"Jane, what are you saying?"

He just sighed, long and rough like sand, yet sharp like broken glass. The quality of it made Lisbon shudder.

"I don't know what I'm saying anymore, Teresa. I know barely anything now."

When that sentence ended, anger boiled deep within Lisbon. She hated Red John. Hated him violently for breaking the man she loved. Hated him for destroying Patrick, for reducing such a good man to little more than a shell.

And in her mind, there could be no doubt about his goodness. At his core, Jane loved so strongly that it sometimes scared her. But all the same, his love gave her hope. As long as he still loved, he could still be redeemed. Teresa would do it herself, whatever it took.

She sealed the unvoiced promise with a squeeze of his hand.

When she spoke, her voice was low, but much darker than it had ever been. Her earlier shock at Red John's power was gone by now. It had long been replaced by snakes of hatred coiled around her heart. Only the serial killer's death could kill the serpents. That, and Patrick's love. But then, Red John had to die first.

He had to be good and dead.

Not maybe dead, but dead as in three shots to the chest and one to his head, just to make sure. They couldn't take chances.

Finally she said, "You have no idea, Jane. I hate him so much. I want to kill him for what he's done to you."

Patrick pulled away from her, his blue eyes wide with curiosity. He aped her words. "What are you saying, Lisbon?"

"I'm saying I hate him, that's what. It might be you who gets him, but if I'm the one to find the bastard, I'll shoot him dead."

"Lisbon?" he repeated. His voice was openly uncertain now, even a bit frightened.

Seeing the fear lurk in his eyes, Teresa pulled him close again. The action seemed to settle whatever internal debate he had going on.

Honestly, she didn't know where her burst of hate came from. All she knew was, when she'd seen Patrick so broken by the CD, it had broken something inside her too. Seeing him so helpless aroused her instinct to protect. You could call it mothering if you wanted. But all definitions aside, she would obliterate the man who made Jane this way.

Even if she died in the attempt, she would.

She squeezed his hand again. "If it's the last thing we do, Jane, I'm telling you we'll get him."

In those first few moments after she went silent, he'd been too awestruck to reply. When he finally did, he didn't use words. Instead, he faced her on the hard attic bed, laying a soft kiss on her forehead. To seal their new understanding, he pulled her close for a hug as well. She offered no resistance, and they held each other tighter than they ever did before.

For his part, Patrick was acutely aware of everything. He was holding Teresa Lisbon, and she wasn't just his boss anymore.

She'd ceased in that singular role so very long ago.

Now, she was his boss, his love, and his future. She was his hope, his last tenuous link to everything good still left in the world.

At that thought, a small smile appeared on Jane's face. Damn Red John all to hell. He had Teresa to live for now, and Patrick wouldn't rest until their future together was assured. Red John had to die, and they would get him, exactly as Lisbon said.

He would put his faith in her, and back in himself too. They would need to believe, if they were to succeed.

He pulled away and broke their silence. "Red John knows I care about you, Lisbon. That's why he asked for your head."

Her face was unchanged. She even shrugged. "What's new, Jane? You've always cared, same as I have."

If she were allowed, she would have replaced "care" with another four-letter word. Care seemed so unable to describe everything she felt. She wasn't even sure that English had a word for the contents of her heart. But Teresa wasn't in a rush. She had time on her side.

In his own broken way, Patrick always showed that he loved her. And that was good enough for now.

Her and him would focus on their quarry first. Once that was done with, they could build their future without fear.

Jane cradled her face in his hands. "Let's make a deal, Lisbon. When we catch Red John, I'll tell you something important."

"Why not just tell me now?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'll tell you after. So you have to live till that moment, okay?"

Red fire flared in Lisbon's heart. Could she hope? "And what if I don't live till then, Jane? Then what?"

His hands on her face tightened considerably. "I don't wanna hear that again. I won't have you saying such things."

"It was worth a shot," she said. "Let me make you my own deal. You need to trust me, Jane. Trust me fully. And you have to live till he's dead too. You're not the only one with something important to say. Messages work best when their receivers are alive. You understand what I'm saying?"

"I do, dearest. Want to shake on it?" He held out his hand, but she didn't take it. She kissed his forehead instead.

The contact lasted only three seconds, but the brief press of her lips had Jane shuddering to his core.

That was the plan, then. They would protect each other with their lives. They would form a unit so strong even Red John couldn't assail it. And at the end of everything, because they were the good guys, they would damn well triumph.

Of course, they weren't under the delusion that killing Red John would be easy. Both of them had failed often enough not to think that. But as Brett Stiles had said, any task could be accomplished when broken down into manageable pieces.

So that was what they'd do. Slowly but surely, they would chip away at their nemesis, before ending the evil that he was, for good.

As hard as it would be, Patrick and Teresa had incentive. They had the best incentive imaginable.

After all, the two of them had a future to fight for. It was one fight they didn't plan on losing.

* * *

**A/N** So? One-shot or multi-chapter? Tell me your thoughts. Either way I've got some early drafts prepped, so we're good to go. Also, to the readers of my other stories, I've pulled them to do some massive editing. I'll re-upload the completed ones once finished. Don't fret.


	2. Quiet Days and Revelations

**A/N** Second chapter, delivered hot and ready. Hope you like it, and please keep the reviews coming.

* * *

The next day at the CBI was uncharacteristically quiet.

There was a homicide, but it was an open and shut case. Not a complicated thing, by anyone's standards. The agency had stepped in to provide manpower and resources, the local PD having been busy with other cases. Robberies, another murder, and a couple assaults, to be specific.

In the bullpen, Van Pelt worked on her computer. Rigsby and Cho handled paperwork, and Lisbon worked quietly in her office. Right there with her, Jane slept on the couch he had bought for her. It was horrible, as a point of honesty, to see him there.

The sight of him made Teresa remember his fake breakdown. It was a memory she tried not to revisit. At least, not too often.

As he napped, Lisbon tried to concentrate on her files. Once she heard his snuffles though, it didn't take long for her to give up. Way before she'd ever loved him, she'd already loved those snuffles. They were cute, and they turned him into a little boy instead of the sharp consultant that he was.

Sighing, she put down her current folder and looked at him instead.

Now that she was in a particularly reflective, it seemed only yesterday when she'd taken Jane in after the Hannigan fiasco. He was hopeless then, and clearly broken as all hell. Anyone who looked hard enough could see that. And even then, his poor plight had tugged on her heart. She hadn't known him all that well yet, but already his pain had affected her.

Was it destiny? Maybe it was. Maybe they were endgame. Her and Patrick, a goddamn OTP like all the teenagers said.

Her eyes strayed to his chest, going up and down with his breaths.

Considering the depth of his agony, she sometimes expected him to just die. No muss and no fuss, just his dead body on the bullpen couch. Cause of death would, appropriately, be a broken heart. Maybe the coroner would autopsy him, and find the poor organ completely crushed by Red John.

Lisbon shook her head as she thought about it.

How Jane could survive such wretchedness was beyond her.

It only made her more determined to share the weight. To ease the suffering he bore so quietly on a daily basis.

"Lisbon, stop staring at me, please."

She blushed at having been caught, but damn if she'd ever admit it. "I wasn't staring. Dream on, Jane."

Jane opened his eyes fully, and then turned his head and winked. "You keep telling yourself that, dearest."

Dearest. There it was again. He seemed fond of the term these days. "Why do you call me that?"

He only shrugged. "I'm not likely to call Cho or Rigsby that, am I? Also, Grace is spoken for by Wayne, so you're the only one left. And you matter to me more than anyone else, Teresa. You know that."

She leaned forward on her desk. "You seem unusually forthcoming today."

"What other choice is there?" Jane sat up fully. "You asked me to trust you, so I will. Besides, I'm thinking we need a new strategy if we're gonna catch Red John. Hiding things from each other hasn't helped so far. That leaves one logical solution. We both turn a new leaf, and tell each other what the other needs to know."

Lisbon said nothing, so Patrick continued with his words.

"Teresa, you know I'm not being forthcoming just out of pragmatism. Something changed between us yesterday. I won't disrespect that by hiding things from you. So from now on, if you want me to explain anything, you have but to ask."

Although his statement was meant to please, it only made fear boil inside her blood. There was one answer she wanted from him, one explanation she wished to ask for. Depending on what he said, he could make her happy, or he could crush her completely.

But then, he did want them to turn a new leaf. So fine. She would just take the plunge.

Lisbon steadied herself and spoke. "Listen, Jane. The day you fake-shot me. Did you really forget what you said?"

He got up at her question. After clearing some space on her desk, he sat there and cradled her face again. Patrick leaned forward so their noses touched. His voice was low, honest. It was his real self coming totally to the fore.

"I've loved you for such a long time," he said. "How could I ever forget it once I told you?"

Lisbon disintegrated within moments.

Meaning to soothe her, Jane pulled her close, feeling her start to cry against him. Their quiet day at work surely wasn't quiet anymore, but he was still happy about this sudden turn of events. Telling her the truth had lifted a huge weight, and Jane felt elated at Lisbon's reaction. Why else would she cry, if she didn't feel the same? She had to love him, right? She just had to, that was the logical thing.

Once she stopped, he pulled away. He still cradled her face though, desperately wanting to hear the words.

"How about me?" Jane asked. "Do you love me as well, sweetheart?"

There was still a slight sob in her voice as she said, "Of course I do, you big idiot." Her smile took over her whole face.

Her short response made Patrick cry too. It was only one tear down his cheek, but whatever. Jane didn't cry often, so that tear was a feat.

Oh God, Teresa loved him. The thought had his soul singing like an idiot.

"You know you can't take that back, right?" There was still a frisson of doubt in his voice.

Lisbon laughed. "Don't worry, Jane, I won't."

The answer got her a blinding smile. Jane pulled her up from her chair, leading her to the couch he'd just vacated. He was the first to sit down, tugging her onto his lap. He took the closeness as an opportunity to wipe her tear tracks away.

Once Lisbon was presentable and considerably calmer, Jane leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"You've made me very happy, Teresa. You should know that. But now also very scared. I won't survive if you leave me."

His frail words made Lisbon want to cry again. As they sat together, Jane transformed into the mortal man he'd always been. With her was not the charmer who always got his way. Instead, with her was a man simply afraid to lose his woman. And in its own way, his fear proved his love.

Lisbon pulled him even closer, sensing his need for reassurance. She repeatedly kissed the curls on his head.

"I won't leave you, you know that, right? He won't take me away."

His hold on her tightened, a slight tremble included. She continued to speak.

"Patrick, I've got your back, you've got mine. If we keep it up, we'll get through this. And who cares if Red John is Bertram, or Kirkland, or whoever? We've got way better people on our side. We've got Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt. Those three and us two? Perfect combination. We're like Daredevil."

Jane's laugh broke his silence. "Since when did you get so humorous, Agent?"

"You must be rubbing off on me." Teresa pulled him up with a smile. "Come on, you. Let's get going."

"And where to, my beautiful love?"

She tried not to grin and failed utterly. "You blond charmer. Come on, let's get you some tea."

* * *

Patrick took a slow sip, enjoying the brew sliding down his throat. Somewhere between now and a decade ago, Lisbon had learned his tea method perfectly. No mean feat too, considering he'd never really taught her. Somehow she had just learned, in that efficient Lisbon way of hers.

It only made her more lovable. He thanked her by way of a kiss, and she'd never been more thankful that they were alone.

Although she smiled, her eyes were serious. "You know Jane, I really don't like seeing you afraid."

He set his cup down. "I wish I could help it, sweetheart. But you're my last hope for a future. If he gets you, I might as well die too."

"Don't you say that, Jane." She gripped his arms hard. "Losing faith gets us nowhere. You have to be strong."

Jane pulled her into a sudden hug. "I'll try my best, Lisbon. For you and for everyone else."

"Damn right you should. That's the kind of thing I want to hear."

He picked up his tea again, being somewhat mollified now. Jane smiled his contented smile at her.

Then he said, "You know, I really like you calling me Patrick. It makes me feel very close to you."

At first, the words had stopped her cold. And then before she knew it, she was just crying like a lunatic.

What kind of man said things like that anyway? I like you calling me by my given name, it makes me feel close to you? Really, who said stuff like that? Oh yeah, Patrick Jane did. And because it was him, she'd cry in the break room if she wanted. It was her goddamn right after all they'd been through.

Still, why was she against his chest? When had that movement happened?

He soothed her, hand tracing circles on her back. "Did I say something wrong, darling?"

She hurriedly dried her eyes. "No, no, nothing wrong. It's just crazy, you know? I can't even explain it. You're really something."

"If I'm really something, then what are you waiting for? Be out with it and just say I'm amazing."

"Oh, bite me."

"Out here, Lisbon? Where everyone will see me nibbling you?" He put a hand to his heart. "I'm scandalized!"

She slapped his arm. "You know that's not what I meant."

Jane took an innocent sip of his tea. "Well what did you mean, then? Shall I bite you somewhere more private?"

"Oh screw you." Frustrated by his antics, Lisbon retreated to her office.

"My, my, Teresa!" he yelled out. "I didn't know you were so forward!"

"She's so what?"

Patrick whirled around to see Grace, sporting a confused expression on her face.

He sipped his tea with a grin. "Never you mind, Agent Van Pelt. Never you mind."

* * *

**A/N** Thought I'd give them a quiet day first. Next chapter, the hunt for Red John goes into full swing. Review, yeah?


	3. Honesty and Amnesty

**A/N** Apologies for the delay. I've never been busier. And please note, this story doesn't follow canon, okay? It really focuses on Jane and Lisbon more than the cases they solve or their current hunt for Red John. Person-based, not event-based, folks.

* * *

The next four weeks were undeniably busy.

In the space of a month, there were more cases at the CBI than Serious Crimes could handle. It seemed a crime spree was happening right when they couldn't afford it. Everyone at the office was highly irritable, and changes could be seen from every member of the team. Rigsby was more quiet out of fatigue, Van Pelt chugged more coffee than ever, and Cho had all the suspects on an even shorter leash. Tempers flared often, and even Lisbon's professionalism cracked once or twice.

But out of all of them, no one had gone through more discomfort than Jane.

In an effort to solve cases, he had been traded like a commodity across the agency. He never liked separation from his family at work, and made no moves to hide that dislike at all. Instead of being helpful, he was more often a hindrance, even with his talents all considered. Eventually, Jane was returned on Bertram's orders, to the visible relief of Van Pelt and Rigsby.

The first words out of Patrick's mouth were, "Oh, it's good to be home."

"Home, huh?" Cho pointed to Lisbon's office. "So what are you waiting for?"

Jane put on a nonchalant face. "Sorry, what?"

The Korean agent was unperturbed. He never even looked up from his paperwork. "Jane, don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about."

Well yes, Patrick knew exactly what Cho was talking about. But in the interests of discretion, he parked himself out in the bullpen first. He had all the time in the world to go to Lisbon later. For now, he would settle in again, get re-acquainted with the rhythm of things, and then catch Red John after a cup of tea. Or maybe after a kiss from Lisbon too.

He counted down in his head, starting at 00. He would wait ten minutes, that was the plan, and then he'd go say hi to her.

To his credit, he managed until half that time. Then his feet were moving, quite as if he had no control over them at all.

It was like an internal GPS, set only to Lisbon's location. That was how he felt, anyway. He felt physically compelled to see her. In the past he'd not been so needy, but he guessed that love had a way of changing his habits. He opened the door to her office, finding her dealing with paperwork yet again. One of these days, she'd most likely die from a thousand paper cuts.

Once inside, Jane closed the blinds first, and then went over to kiss the top of her head.

He said nothing to her for a long while, seemingly content to lean over her desk and keep his lips on her hair.

Finally, when Lisbon thought he'd never stop, he pulled away and asked if she wanted some tea.

To her, it looked like their new status together had calmed him, possibly taken the edge off a few of his impulses. But then again, she'd heard the reports. He'd been a total pain during the loan-outs, and apparently he didn't care one whiff despite it.

It was very Jane, to be so unaffected by the opinions of other people. Despite the other glaring issues in his emotional makeup, insecurity wasn't something Patrick Jane suffered from.

Lisbon pointed to the chair in front of her desk. "Sit down please, Patrick. I'd like to talk to you."

He immediately went on the defensive, his hands up in surrender. "Sweetheart, don't tell me this is about my bad behavior. You know full well that I don't like being with other teams. You can't blame me for being crabby."

She sighed. "I'm not about to discipline you. I just want to ask if you're okay."

"Okay about what? About being with Bertram and Haffner and Partridge?"

She looked at him meaningfully, aping some of his words. "You can't blame me for being worried."

"And I do love you for it, but I've been with them before. I've never cracked."

"Well, I wish I could say the same. This past month, knowing the names, I've been on eggshells with everyone. Can't look at them straight, much less act normal. My god, Jane, how do you do it?"

His voice became tired in the space of a second. "I just do it. It's needed. We've climbed this high, Lisbon. We can't fall now."

Teresa looked him in the eye. "I understand where you're coming from. But are you okay, Patrick? Like, really okay?"

Jane's hand snaked across the desk, moving to clasp her fingers with his. She was fast becoming familiar with this tactility, this frequent touching he seemed to get so much comfort from. In all honesty, it was worrying to know that she was responsible for so much of his peace. It made her more determined to survive. Not only for herself, but for him as well.

He squeezed her hand. "I can't say the past month was easy, especially being far from you, but I'm okay. I really am."

She smiled. "That's what matters."

"And what about you though? Did you miss me, Teresa? Like I missed you?"

"Well, yes I did. I guess it's the familiarity of you that I craved."

"Excuse me?" he said, feigning hurt. "You only missed me because I was familiar?"

Lisbon's eyes held a teasing light. "What can I say, Jane? You're a habit. And habits are hard to break."

He stood up, facing her from across her desk. "It's not the familiarity which made you miss me, Lisbon. It's the love."

"Is that so, Patrick?"

"Yes it's so. Now admit that's the truth, unless you want me to kiss some honesty into you."

Before she could blurt out something like "Jane, no more PDA," Cho was already barging into Lisbon's office.

He gave them a quick once-over for propriety's sake, but the set of his face showed that something big was up. He didn't even comment on Jane's posture at the desk, or at the obvious new closeness between his boss and her consultant.

"What is it, Cho?" Lisbon said.

Cho seemed to wait an eternity before the words spilled out. "Partridge is dead, boss. And that damn face is on the wall."

* * *

Partridge's death threw everyone into a tailspin, with the exception of Jane and Lisbon. Everyone else wondered what RJ wanted with the poor forensics tech, but Teresa and Patrick knew exactly what the death was. It was a way of reaffirming the change in the game. Jane was getting closer to Red John, and in retaliation, Red John was slithering closer as well.

After the end of Partridge, more and more corpses showed up, each new one more mutilated than the last. What never changed was the signature on the wall, the red smiley that screamed of darkness each time it appeared. It seemed Red John was intent on keeping his promise, his pledge to kill more until either he was caught or he'd caught them.

On the outside, Jane seemed unfazed by this torrent of death, but he'd never been able to fool Lisbon for long.

"My office in ten minutes," she'd soon told him, once they were back from their newest interrogation.

Disobedient as ever, he went to her after fifteen, only to discover she had tea waiting on the desk. Jane thought the hot drink was the end of it, only to be surprised by the words that came out of her mouth.

"You know," she said, "I forgive you for everything. I forgive you for Vegas. I forgive you for every time you've hurt me, or lied to me, or disobeyed me even when you could have died because of it. I even forgive you for Lorelei. And though I'll never understand why you resorted to that, I won't hold it against you anymore."

He looked her straight in the eye and spoke in a measured tone. "Teresa," he said, "why say this now?"

She shrugged, although the weight was visible behind the gesture.

"I know this probably isn't the right time, Jane. But I just want to lighten your burden."

"You do lighten it."

"Let me finish," she said. "I don't want you to go through all this, wondering whether you're forgiven for the sins you think you have against me. And don't you give me any crap about not deserving it. In my eyes, you've earned every bit already."

A chill ran up Jane's spine at the way she plucked his fears from his head. It seemed she was a mentalist too, in her own way.

After a long pause, he said, "If it means anything, I never set out to hurt you. You have to know that."

She got up and led him to the couch. Once they were comfortably seated, she held his hand and spoke.

"I know you had the best intentions, Patrick. That's why I've forgiven you. And I always knew that loving you would be hard. It hasn't been a cake walk, God knows, but I wouldn't trade you for anything."

When he was unable to reply, Teresa couldn't resist a tease. "Jane, have I short-circuited your brain?"

Patrick said nothing, merely put the full weight of his gaze on her. Though his eyes had seen unspeakable things, now they only held his love for her, and his gratitude for everything she was to him.

By the time he finally spoke, his words were sure and unflinching. "Till my last breath, Teresa, I'll never love anyone but you."

She kissed his cheek and whispered against him. "Oh, Patrick, I know that. And you're it for me, too. No one else."

Noticing the sudden weight of the atmosphere, he dispelled the heavy air with a sudden peck to her lips.

"Enough of our drama," he said, smiling and eyes alight. "Before I pull us up to have lunch, I want you to know this, Lisbon."

"Know what?"

"These days, you're about the only thing I live for."

When Teresa smiled in answer, Patrick's dark world found its new sun.

* * *

**A/N** So, thoughts? Share them through a review. Also, those with requests for what they want to see in this fic, send them in. I'm also open to prompts if you guys want me to write something for you. So, don't be afraid to get in touch. I'm not RJ - I won't bite. Haha!


	4. The End of the Smile

**A/N** I'm seeing maybe one or two more chapters after this one. Thanks to the those who took the time to send in PMs. I appreciate it, you were all very constructive. This was really the hardest damn chapter to write. So many choices I had to make. Please, please review? And I definitely need your feedback, check the question at the end, you guys. Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

Jane's world was shrinking, collapsing in on itself like a dying star, and all he could see were the eyes of the devil. He was staring at Red John, at the man singlehandedly responsible for destroying almost all of his soul. And right now, Red John was threatening to take even more from him, the killer's dirty hands clutching Lisbon from behind.

Jane's mind was going horrendously blank, whiting out completely at the worst possible moment.

From somewhere behind him, he heard Cho's voice, distant and disembodied. "Jane, shoot!"

"Shoot him now!" It was Grace this time, her words carried by an expulsion of breath.

"Do it, Patrick," Red John said. "Shoot me like your friends are telling you to. But you can't do it, can you? You're not so good with a gun. And you might hit our precious Teresa. You might kill her. Just like you killed your wife and child."

Guilt flooded Jane's system. Guilt, mixed with pain and worry and darkness. It was the cocktail of death, made out of every bad thing that existed in the world. And right now that cocktail was swimming inside him, tainting his blood, keeping him still at the very time when he most needed to move. The control his mind had seemed nonexistent. Intellectually he knew it was there, and yet his body wasn't obeying any of its whispered orders.

Damn it, what the fuck was happening to him now?

"Jane, do it," Rigsby said, still clutching his painful sides, his shirt spattered with blood.

Jane looked to Red John, who seemed positively giggly at his paralysis. The sick killer looked content to watch his inaction.

"Patrick." He focused on that voice. On Lisbon's voice, the voice of his savior and angel.

Jane heard her speak again. She spoke his name, the way only she ever said it. It was gentle even though she was a hostage, affectionate even if her life was uncertain.

"Patrick," she said. "Do it. Trust me, do it."

Jane held the gun up, aiming for Red John's head. His hands were steady but his insides trembled like an epileptic.

Red John kept taunting. "Can you do it? You might hit her with your bullet. Or I might slice her throat as I die."

"Shut up, bastard," Lisbon said. "Patrick, listen to me. Shoot him, you won't hurt me. Do it now!"

Jane exhaled and fired.

It was like slow-motion, the way the gun recoiled in his hand, the way she moved out of the bullet path, pushing Red John's blade away too. As Jane stared and watched his nemesis fall down, his heart lurched in utter relief that Lisbon was safe.

When the serial killer was lying still on the ground, Teresa reached for her own gun and fired a last shot into his heart. Then she rushed towards Jane. He dropped his weapon and sank to the ground, knees buckling under the weight of what had just transpired. Red John was dead. Fucking dead-dead too, no doubts about it. A shot each in his sick head and his black heart.

Jane's first instinct, despite everything, was to ensure Lisbon's well-being.

He smoothed her hair away, eyes hyper-alert, cataloging every detail about her. "You're really good? He didn't hurt you?"

She shook her head and crouched down with him. "I'm fine. He's gone, Jane, he's gone."

Fuck the rest of the team, Jane thought. He pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her head and her cheek and her lips, mad with his concern and his love for her. They had succeeded. The long nights, the bloodshot eyes, even the arguments. It was all worth it. They'd killed Red John, and they'd done it together. The bastard's shadow would cease to hang over them both.

Lisbon pulled out her phone. "I need an ambulance. We've got three agents down."

She and Jane stood up. Teresa went into full mothering mode, fussing mightily over the members of her team.

Grace appeared fine except for the cuts on her eyebrow and cheek, and Cho was no worse for the wear, sporting a cut lip and an aching leg from the whole tussle. It was Rigsby who had the most injuries, as he'd taken the brunt of the fight from RJ's lackeys. Lisbon instructed him not to move, and Grace quickly went to hold his hand as they waited.

The end of a dark chapter had come. Red John was dead. And as clichéd as it was, good had triumphed over evil.

* * *

"You and Jane go, boss. Van Pelt and I can watch Rigsby. Doctors said he's fine, apart from the broken ribs and his cuts."

Jane walked up to stand behind Lisbon, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Cho's right. We'll just visit Rigsby tomorrow."

"We all ought to take shifts watching him," she said. "I don't feel right leaving."

Jane pulled her aside, waving the team away. When the two of them were left alone, sitting on the hospital waiting chairs, he cradled her face and whispered. "Teresa, you need your rest. We've both been up more than a full day now, we're gonna die on our feet if we stay."

He made sure to show his tiredness in his eyes, hoping to make her protectiveness kick in. At this rate, he'd pull out all the stops to make sure she rested. If he had to use his own exhaustion as a trigger, he'd damn well do it. Besides, he really was tired. Killing a decade-long enemy was draining.

He just wanted to sleep for days on end.

"Teresa, time for us to go home," he said. His tone communicated finality.

Lisbon wanted to protest, but his first-name usage stopped her. When he called her Teresa, it was him reasserting authority as the love of her life.

She gave up her cause and left with him, their hands clasped during the walk to his Citroen. He buckled her in before going to his side.

"Good thing you brought this when we stormed RJ, huh?"

Jane turned onto the road. "I wanted to be ready. I always knew there could be injuries involved, maybe deaths. I brought this in case the ambulances didn't come fast enough. We might've needed to rush someone to the hospital."

Lisbon squeezed his hand. "But we're all fine, Patrick. We survived."

His eyes held their familiar weight. "I don't know what I would've done if I'd shot you."

"Well you didn't," she said, "so no need for those thoughts. RJ is gone, Jane. I just want us to go home."

He let out a breath. "Home it is then, my love. Home it is."

* * *

Patrick didn't wake Teresa once they were at her apartment. He just unbuckled her gently, scooping her up into his arms. Her little snuffles were adorable to him, even if they'd just finished murdering their enemy. Unlocking the door with the keys in her pocket, he carried her to bed.

He thought she wouldn't wake from the movement, but she did in the end.

"Jane?" she said, voice all rumpled from her nap.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Can we take a bath before we sleep?"

"But aren't you tired?"

"I am tired, but I want us to be clean first. I wanna wash this day away. Please."

He accepted her request, carrying her from the bed once more. When they reached her bathroom, he stripped her gently and made quick work of his own clothes. Both of them headed to the shower instead of the bathtub, as they couldn't wait for the hot water to fill. It was Lisbon who first stepped under the spray, morbidly fascinated with the pinkish bloody water.

The fascination didn't last long though, as Jane soon pulled her close for a kiss. It was gentle at first, just a press on the mouth, but it quickly morphed into something more passionate. He pressed Lisbon against the shower wall, his lips on her neck, laving the skin with tender attention.

"Darling Teresa," he whispered, kissing her shoulder. "Tell me you'll have me forever. Just me and you?"

"Whatever you'd like, Patrick. Just me and you."

She punctuated her sentence with a kiss to his neck, finding solace in the strength of his body against hers. Soon enough, she was feeling his arousal against her stomach, hard and insistent against her skin. She stroked him twice just to provide some comfort, not really aiming for anything sexual to come out of it. Evidently, he was grateful for the attention, as he let out a groan of pleasure.

If anything, it was actually just a loud sigh, a long whiff of breath escaping his lungs.

"Wash me?" he said, his eyes begging her for comfort.

Teresa was quick to comply, putting body wash on him and lathering it up. As she worked over his skin, she stayed alert for what gave him the most satisfaction. Again, there was nothing sexual about it, just her caring for the man that she loved. When she finished every part of him, it was his cue to return the favor. Exactly as she did, he poured all of his attention into cleaning her up.

He was more kissy at it though, his lips pressed against some part of her at all times.

By the time he was done, his lips were swollen and aching, but his heart sang with his ecstasy.

* * *

"I thought you should know, Lisbon. I feel very much like a dog."

She slapped at his arm and continued her task, drying his curls with a fluffy white towel. He was doing the same for the other parts of her, tangling them in a mess of cotton and bodies. In the end, he carted her caveman-style, dropping her in bed with an unceremonious poof at the landing.

Efficient as always, he climbed on top of her not a moment later.

"Tell me you love me, Teresa."

"I love you."

He kissed near her ear and whispered. "Promise to say that until I die, okay? I would die very happy."

"Oh now, don't say that." Her eyes brimmed with tears.

He immediately backtracked, stroking her cheek. "I'm sorry, little one. Let me make you smile instead."

He started that task with a kiss to her lips, open and endless and wet. His tongue was playful yet firm against hers, dancing in her mouth and tasting her essence. At the same time, he rubbed his body all over her own, pulling the towel aside to make contact with skin.

After a while, she said, "You seem to love my neck, don't you, Jane?"

"Mm-hmm, very shapely," he said, soothing his nips there with a lick of the tongue.

"Wanna know what parts of you I love?"

"Tell me," he said, speaking against her jaw now.

Teresa put her hands on his face."This entire part of you, I adore. Your eyes are so bright, so vibrant. And your cheeks are soft, but the cheekbones, nice and defined. Your jaw too, straight like your nose. It's very aquiline, really patrician and stately. And your lips? God Jane, where do I start?"

He grinned with all of his teeth. "What other parts of me, sweetheart?"

She kissed his shoulders. "This part, for one. They're well-formed and strong, like your arms. So whenever you're near me, like right now, I feel protected by your shoulders. I feel like they'll protect me from everything."

"And they will, Teresa. You know I'll always protect you."

She smiled. "Well, it would take all day to tell you what parts I love, so let's just face it. I love every part of you."

His heart melted at the sincerity, and he soon moved the two of them so they faced each other side-by-side.

Then he reached for her hand, placing it squarely on his throbbing erection.

"Touch me here, Lisbon," he whispered, his own hands snaking to find her core. "Let me touch you also."

She obeyed his request without hesitation, fingers wrapping around the girth of his cock. He too did the same, the tips of his digits lingering around her soft folds. Their eyes locked on each other, transmitting their need, speaking words that didn't need saying. Moments later, Patrick plunged his fingers inside her, in time with her down-stroke on his hardness.

Each of them groaned at the sensation, hips jerking to meet the influx of pleasure.

"You like that, darling?" He nuzzled her neck. "Am I doing good?"

"Oh yeah, doing very good, Jane. Keep going."

"Quid pro quo, Teresa." He thrust into her hand, reinforcing his meaning.

Following his cue, she started pumping him at a steady pace, in time with his fingers inside her wetness. It wasn't long before they got progressively louder, and Jane started showing a side she'd never seen before. She admittedly liked it, though. It was empowering to see him like this.

"Oh God, Lisbon," he said, still bucking wildly into her hand. "You're making me feel so good. So good, darling."

As if to second his statement, she too started writhing against him, pushing his fingers deeper into her channel.

It started the coils of her climax, winding deep in her belly, waiting to spring free.

He pulled her head close, speaking into their shared breaths.

"Please kiss me Teresa. Always kiss me when we touch each other like this."

"Mm-hmm, anything," she said, her voice hot and devoted.

She crashed their mouths together, giving in to their erotic catharsis, setting their bodies aflame with love and desire.

While Patrick kept thrusting with immeasurable force, Lisbon pressed her walls against his talented fingers. His movement slicked her hand with his pre-come, while her wetness easily coated his digits. All the while, the two of them never stopped kissing, not minding the sweat that broke out over their bodies. When he hit the right spot inside her, she positively wailed.

"Oh God, Jane! Patrick!"

He sped up his fingers within her. "I know you're close, Teresa. Come with me, let's come together."

"Fuck, a bit more," she said, stroking him faster, feeling him swell.

Patrick obeyed like a dog, thrusting violently into her hand, speeding up to a level he didn't know he could reach.

He looked her straight in the eye, stormy sea-green meeting her emerald gaze. "Now, Teresa. Do it, take me with you, please!"

His strangled command shattered her to pieces, walls clenching around his fingers. He had her gripping him and writhing, unwilling to accept any form of separation. He was exactly the same way with her, fucking mindlessly into her hand, spraying her skin with torrents of seed.

Not long after, his warm tongue invaded her mouth, both of them panting as the aftershocks faded.

* * *

"Our shower was totally pointless, Jane."

Patrick's laugh was full and throaty, the laugh of a man set free from his demons. He shrugged at her.

"I actually find it beautiful, the way we christened this bed with our essence. I'm going to sleep very happy tonight."

Lisbon shook her head. "That's pretty crass, but you said it nicely. I'll let it slide."

He smiled his contented smile at her, pulling her close under the covers. There was a little bit of yawn when he spoke.

"He's really gone, isn't he, Teresa?"

She laid a tender kiss to the skin of his neck. "It's just you and me now, Patrick. Just you and me."

"Which is as it should be, my love, though you should know something."

"Hmm? What's that?"

His toothy grin was back on his face. "Whoever called you Saint Teresa was dead wrong."

The two of them sank into laughter at his quip, later drifting into rest with peace on their faces.

* * *

**A/N** Here's the thing. I wrote full smut for the next chapter. As in like, with their actual parts. Do I add it in, or replace it with domestic Jane? Or do you guys want both? Plus, what did you think of this installment? I really wanted to skip the mechanics of the hunt. Do tell me your thoughts, yeah?


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